


Through Flames of Hellfire

by pikaace



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Scene, Apologies, Fire, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Rescue, decided to spare the lives of those telemarketing guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-24 23:58:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19734277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikaace/pseuds/pikaace
Summary: An alternate version of the burning bookshop scene.Aziraphale thought Heaven would help. But unfortunately he called Crowley at the absolute worst time.





	Through Flames of Hellfire

“Yeah, not a good time, got an old friend here.” 

_ Click!  _

Crowley had never hung up on Aziraphale before like that. Then again they hadn’t exactly parted on good terms the last time they saw each other. Aziraphale put the phone down and paced for a few moments; perhaps it would be better if he just talked to Crowley in person. But there wasn’t time! 

Aziraphale agonized over it for a bit longer before he finally rushed back over to the phone and dialed his number again. The other end picked up. “Crowley, listen, I-” 

“Aziraphale,” A rough voice responded. A voice that definitely wasn’t Crowley. 

“Um, I’m sorry but who-” 

“Thank you for setting me free,” The voice said. “You just made my job so much easier.” 

Before Aziraphale could even register what was happening, he spied a maggot emerging from the phone. He yelped and dropped the receiver as a pile spilled out only to form a figure a few moments later. A demon. Aziraphale had come in contact with demons that weren’t Crowley only a handful of times, but it had been a while since he last saw one. He took in the frog on his head and the horrid smell. Let’s just say Aziraphale suddenly had a brand new appreciation for Crowley’s style and sense of hygiene. 

“Ah...Hastur, is it?” Aziraphale started to back away, recognizing him from the vague description he’d heard from Crowley. “What, um, brings you here?” 

“I think you know,” The demon stepped towards him. “Crowley’s best friend, eh?” Hastur glared at him. “Crowley just murdered _my_ best friend.” 

Aziraphale barely kept himself from backing into a table. “Well I-I’m sorry to hear that-” 

“Crowley’s going to pay...and so will you,” Hastur said. “An eye for an eye…A partner for a partner…!” 

An invisible force shoved Aziraphale, sending him flying all the way to his backroom. His head hit the bookshelf and he slumped to the ground, spots in his vision. Unfortunately, the impact also threw the bookshelf off balance, sending it crashing onto the Angel. Hastur chuckled and snapped his fingers, creating a spark and flicked it towards the nearest pile of books. His chuckles escalated into laughter as he exited the bookshop, the flames quickly starting to spread. 

A few moments later, Aziraphale had come back to his senses; he winced in pain from the weight of the bookshelf. He also saw the faint glow from outside the room and fear filled his entire being. H e started to move, to miracle the bookshelf off him...but nothing happened. Smoke suddenly filled his lungs and he began to cough badly. Angels don’t need to breathe, but only one type of fire could possibly make angels cough. Hellfire. That explained why his miracles weren’t working; the damned flames sapped an Angel’s energy in seconds. 

The flames traveled into the backroom as Aziraphale tried in vain to move, but the shelf was just too much for him. He watched helplessly as his beloved books were eaten by the fire, and more coughing took over. The smoke was so thick it was almost unbearable. He closed his eyes and lowered his head as the coughing got worse. It couldn’t end like this, could it? There was so much he wanted to do, to go...to say. Aziraphale felt his heart grow heavy as he thought of Crowley. The demon always made a point to get him out of sticky situations like this. Though it likely wasn’t going to happen this time… 

_ ‘You’re so clever! How can someone like you be so clever but so stupid?!’  _

Aziraphale felt a lump come to his throat; Crowley was right...how could he have been so stupid?! Thinking Heaven would be able to help, he should have known better than to trust them! 

_ ‘You really think Heaven is going to take your call? You’re ridiculous.’  _

He  _ was _ ridiculous. He was just a foolish, naive, angel who thought he could help by talking to The Almighty. Laughable. He was such a fool for trusting Heaven instead of the one person who he had always trusted with his life...and he had driven him away. Perhaps he deserved to die here after all- 

“AZIRAPHALE!” 

His eyes opened at the familiar voice. 

“Aziraphale, where the Heaven are you, you idiot?! I can’t find you!” 

Aziraphale felt his heart lift; he was here? Even after everything he had said… 

“Aziraphale, for Go- For Sa- Argh! For SOMEBODY’S sake, where are you?!” 

Aziraphale lifted his head and called out his name. Or rather, he tried to, only getting part of it out before succumbing back to his coughing. Luckily, that was enough, because Crowley perked up at the sound and barreled towards it. 

“Aziraphale!” he burst into the back room, seeing the pinned angel. He waved his hand, miracling the toppled shelf across the room. “Angel!” Crowley hauled Aziraphale to his feet. 

“C-Crowley-!” He fell into another coughing fit. Crowley draped his arm over his shoulder and hurried to the door, Crowley grabbing something as they left. They stumbled out the door, and Aziraphale felt clean air enter his lungs. He coughed a few more times, expelling any leftover smoke and Crowley hurried them to the car that was parked nearby. Aziraphale leaned on the car, feeling Crowley’s arm move away only to grasp his shoulders. He vaguely registered him talking to him as everything seemed to catch up to him. 

“-dammit angel, talk to me! Who did this?!” Crowley’s voice finally came through. “Are you alright?!” Aziraphale stared at him and then a sob escaped him. Crowley grunted as the angel threw his arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Whoa, angel-” 

“I’m sorry!” Aziraphale cried. “I’m so so sorry, Crowley! You were right, you were right all along!” 

“What the Heaven are you-” 

“I’m sorry for everything I said!” Aziraphale continued. “I didn’t mean a word of it! I was such a coward, I- “

''Angel! Calm down!” Crowley managed to pry the angel off him and grip his shoulders. “What are you on about?” 

“I know where the Antichrist is!” Aziraphale finally managed to get out. 

Crowley blinked, “Wha-” 

“Yes, I know, I’ve known for...for quite some time,” Aziraphale started to feel the guilt come up. “I thought I could fix it, I-I thought Heaven would...but I was wrong.” He looked at Crowley with wet eyes. “I should have told you everything from the start, you were right about everything, I should have trusted you after everything we’ve been through together, and I'm so _sorry!_ I was so stupid, I-” 

“I’m stopping you right there,” Crowley cut him off. 

“But Crowley-” 

Crowley shushed him and put a finger to his lips. “As much as I’d love to kiss and make up, we do have the end of the world to worry about first so we’ll talk later, when the world isn't a ball of flames, yeah?” Crowley gave him a smile, which was all Aziraphale needed to nod in agreement. “So, where is he?” Crowley asked, removing his finger. 

“Ah, in Tadfield,” Aziraphale said. “I wrote it all down in…!” His eyes widened and he made to run back into a blazing bookshop but Crowley grabbed his arm. 

“The Heaven are you doing?!” 

“There’s a book!” Aziraphale cried. “There’s a book in there, I need it!” 

“Angel, I think it’s a little late for that!” Crowley snapped, yanking him back so Crowley was between him and the blaze. “If you haven’t noticed, the bloody place is filled with bloody hellfire!” Aziraphale bit his lip, knowing Crowley was right, but he continued to stare at his shop. Crowley softened. “Look, angel, I’m sure we’ll live without it,” He said. “What book was it?” 

“I wrote notes in it, about the apocalypse,” Aziraphale said somberly. “The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of-” 

“Agnes Nutter!” Crowley finished, his eyes wide. 

Aziraphale’s jaw dropped as Crowley produced the singed book from the back seat of the Bentley. “What....how did...when did you-?!” 

“As we were leaving, saw it on the floor,” Crowley said. “Didn’t really think of it until now but-” Aziraphale threw his arms around him in another bone-crushing hug. “Well, you’re huggy today…” 

“You incredible, wily serpent…!” Aziraphale breathed. “Is there anything you can’t do…?” 

“Well, breathing comes to mind...cause you’re crushing me, angel…!” 

Aziraphale blinked, coming back to his senses, “Oh!” He released him, and Crowley took a few breaths. Aziraphale tugged on his waistcoat awkwardly; was it getting warm out here? “Ah, well, shall we?” He moved to the passenger side of the Bentley. “We don’t have much time and Tadfield is quite far so we’ll need to get a bit of a wiggle on.” 

“What?” 

“Tadfield.” 

“No I heard that, it was the ‘wiggle on’ bit.” 

The Bentley sped off towards the end of the world. 


End file.
